by E. M. Gayle
I didn’t even bother with my yoga mat. That would have required a trek into my bedroom and some digging in my closet. I hadn’t actually seen it in quite some time. Usually I came home from work so exhausted I had no trouble falling into my bed and sleeping like the dead.
But my conversation with Zia had my mind focused on the wrong things. I did wish I had a name to go with the face that was stuck in my brain. Although if I did, I’d probably end up obsessively googling him and that felt way too stalkerish for my peace of mind.
I stretched forward and down, getting into what I affectionally called the dastardly dog and let all the blood rush to my head. Despite the alcohol loosening me up, my muscles were tight and sore. Something I’d felt for days after my ‘date.’ I would forever use that word loosely about that night. It was far too unconventional to be defined by such a basic word.
I flipped to my side and lifted my left arm all the way to the ceiling. I did have one of their names. Jeremy. And I could possibly find something that way. Maybe.
No. I would just let it go and move on. That was the smart thing to do and I’d made a vow to stop doing stupid things.
That thought made me snort. I’d been making crazy moves for as long as I could remember and as far as I could see that hadn’t stopped just because I changed zip codes. Some might argue that walking out of the house I shared with Bill in the middle of the night with not much more than the clothes on my back was about the craziest thing I could have done.
They might be right. But I wasn’t about to sit around waiting for the FBI to come knocking on my door again. They’d already dragged me in for questioning once and scared the living hell out of me. I didn’t know how many more ways I could tell them I knew nothing about Bill’s extracurricular activities or his other wives.
I dropped to the floor in a tired heap. Finding out I wasn’t legally married decimated me. With Bill planning to leave teaching for a full-time position with our church, there were going to be things to face I wasn’t equipped to deal with.
I’d done the only thing I could.
Run.
I shook my head and pressed my fingers against my eyes. I didn’t want to think about the past anymore. I had a new life. A new apartment. A blossoming career. And I’d proven I was capable of a healthy sexual encounter.
That really was the best part. For a few hours, I’d thought of nothing but what was happening in that moment. It had been exactly the kind of distraction I had needed. My baking was similarly cathartic when I wasn’t on such a tight deadline.
If I closed my eyes I could still feel his lips on mine. Kissing me. Nipping at me. I swallowed thickly. There’d also been that singular moment before he’d covered my eyes. Our gazes were locked together, mesmerized by the other. That’s the memory I couldn’t seem to get past.
I didn’t even know how to describe it, but as many people as I have met or encountered in one way or another, nothing had ever felt quite like that. Certainly not with Bill. Not anyone.
I wanted to feel it again.
The thought entered my mind so suddenly it was almost painful. It hurt to breathe thinking about it.
My phone buzzed across the room on the table, and I glanced over at it with no desire to get up and retrieve it. The realization that I still wanted something I couldn’t have left me feeling adrift. I was apparently more outside my element than I had realized. But shit. What did I know about dating and healthy relationships? Bill had been my first and that had gone so wrong, it was difficult to know what was right after that.
Hence a couple of one-night stands in college and not much else since.
My phone buzzed again and I sighed, dragging my butt off the floor. She would keep sending messages until I answered. The woman was relentless like that. Just like I knew I wasn’t off the hook about Valentine’s night yet. She’d keep at it.
I scooped up my phone and unlocked the screen with my thumb.
The text notification popped up and it was from an unknown number.
Harper, I apologize for not getting in touch with you sooner. But I wanted to thank you for your amazing gift to Jeremy and I the other night. It was a Valentine’s night to remember. So much so that I’d like to see you again. Can you meet tomorrow night?
My heart stuttered. Or maybe it froze because I swear it stopped beating altogether. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. I frantically spun in one direction and then another. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I read it again. I couldn’t believe it. He wanted to see me again. Oh wait—did he want to see me or did they both want to see me? This was so confusing.
I’d like to see you again. Those were his exact words. Still. I sat down in the chair and tried to catch my breath. Why was my heart pounding so hard?
I needed to say something.
I typed a message back. Why?
I wanted to slap my head the minute I hit send. Why? Really? I was the epitome of cool. Zia would die of shame if she could see me now.
Maybe I shouldn’t have had that fourth beer. Yeah, I’m going to go with that and blame all of this on drunk texting. I’d forget all about it by tomorrow, right?
With every minute that passed with no response, my anxiety ratcheted another level higher. After five minutes or so I couldn’t sit here staring at my phone any longer. I grabbed the plates and Zia’s wine glass from the table and carried them over to the sink. I thought about loading the dishwasher and decided it could wait until tomorrow. I still needed that shower from earlier and then I was going to bed.
I had a big day of normal dessert bar baking and some catering work to prep for. If my mystery man—I hesitated mid step—shit, I still didn’t know his name. And how the hell had he gotten my phone number?
My phone buzzed again and I flipped it over to read.
Hmmm. I get the feeling my kitten has claws. I like it. Now I need to know more. Meet me tonight. I’ll make it worth your while.
I smiled. I just bet he would deliver on that promise. I may not be the most experienced girl on the planet, but based on the number of times he and Jeremy made me scream that night, I had complete faith in his abilities. Speaking of…
I don’t even know your name.
Three little dots immediately appeared on my screen letting me know he was typing an immediate answer. I held my breath waiting for his next words to come through.
Does it really matter?
My shoulders sagged. What the hell?
What kind of question is that? It’s common courtesy. You obviously know mine and mysteriously have my phone number. I think a name is overdue.
I tried to imagine him smiling. Or I sure hoped he was. I couldn’t tell if this conversation was going well or becoming an epic fail.
I’ll have my car pick you up at eight. Will that work for you?
A car? Fancy. Probably way too much for someone like me. I’d just spent my evening with a pie from my favorite pizza dive and a cheap six-pack of beer. I could dress up again. It’s not as if I was a backwoods heathen.
I may have come from a small town, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to fit in. Bill had made sure of that. Not long after our marriage I’d become his doll. He would either dress me up and parade me through his private church functions or he would remove my clothes and work tirelessly to put a baby in my belly.
Thankfully that plan had never worked. At first because I had gone to the health clinic and gotten a shot that made sure I didn’t get pregnant on accident and then later because I snuck out for updates when he was ‘out of town’, which I now knew was code for the time he spent with his other wives.
My stomach turned remembering those days. I hated that man. I wanted him to rot in jail for the rest of his life. I just didn’t want to be the one to put him there.
Not when it would cost me my life.
My eyes drifted closed and I squeezed them tight. Those days were long behind me now. I’d spent too much time and effort putting my life back together to
let him ruin it all over again. I was better than that. I deserved a better life.
Yes. Eight is fine. Should I send you my address or do you want me to meet you somewhere? I don’t need a car.
I guess I was going through with meeting him again. I had no idea why because I knew it wasn’t something that could go anywhere. He obviously had a taste for certain things, that while fun to try once, weren’t a life goal. But as my tingling body could readily attest to, I was willing to give him one more night. Another night of fun with the sexiest man I’d ever met would not be a hardship. And it might get me through the rest of the winter alone.
The phone’s ping snagged my attention.
No. I don’t need your address. A car will be at your apartment at eight sharp. I will see you then.
What the ever loving hell? Or more appropriate, what the hell was I getting myself into? He magically/creepily had my phone number that I gave out to no one. He already seemed to know where I live even though I definitely didn’t give him that information. He knew where I worked. And I still didn’t even know his name.
I was either the dumbest woman on the planet, or he was some kind of crazy spy with a secret identity. The chuckle that bubbled up frightened me. This probably wasn’t a laughing matter. This had stalker/serial killer written all over it. Then I remembered the monitors at the Glass Kat. Okay, maybe not serial killer since our first meeting was well documented and that didn’t seem like a thing a criminal would want.
But stalker was still a very real possibility. Did I want to be stalked by him? Yes! No, of course not. No one wanted to be pursued by a beautiful, likely wealthy man with a mouth that knew how to give pleasure in indescribable ways.
Harper.
The appearance of my name on the screen startled me.
Yes? I typed back.
Alex.
Chapter Ten
Harper
As promised, my doorbell buzzed promptly at eight pm. I smoothed out my favorite little black dress and began the process of unlocking my umpteen locks. I didn’t live in a bad neighborhood per se, but living alone in a big city meant I didn’t take unnecessary risks when it came to home security. Plus, I’d been told this was a necessity here.
I steeled myself with a deep breath and yanked open the door—to a stranger.
Before the tendrils of fear could take root, the man in the black suit at my threshold gave me a tight smile and tilted his body to the side. “Good evening, Ms. Allison my name is Gerard. I’m here to escort you downstairs to where Mr. Woodman is waiting.”
“Alex Woodman.” I said the name, not as a question, but instead as another piece to the puzzle that was my mystery man.
“Yes, Ma’am, of course. Mr. Alexander Woodman.”
I bit my lips at the puzzled expression on the driver/man servant’s face. I mean what exactly was I supposed to call him besides Gerard? I had no idea what the protocol was for this kind of thing.
“Uhm. Okay.” I started forward and Gerard stopped me.
“Ma’am, it’s quite cold outside. Don’t you want to grab your coat?”
Oh duh. I nearly slapped my forehead over my stupidity. A purse and keys were kind of necessary too. This whole situation was apparently melting my brain.
I stepped back inside and grabbed my things from the entry table and hook, shrugged the warm but functional jacket onto my arms and wished I’d thought ahead to this part so I could have asked Zia to borrow something a little nicer than my puffy hooded coat that I wore daily, not because it was pretty, but because it functioned perfectly by keeping me warm.
I preceded Gerard down the three flights of stairs that seemed longer than ever before. We emerged together from the building with him holding my door open. At the sight of the sleek black car at the curb I got a twinge in my stomach. When the back door opened and Alex emerged from the backseat, I began to feel a little like a princess.
Maybe it was the fish out of water with a stepmother kind, but I didn’t care. He was here in his modern day chariot with a million dollar smile on his face that made my knees go a little weak. And I didn’t care even a little how cliched that sounded in my own head.
“Hey,” he said, taking my hand and pressing it to his mouth. I gasped at the contact of his warm lips against my skin. That tiny little gesture sent me reeling back to Valentine’s night and the first kiss we’d shared then.
This one was far different from that night, but it felt every bit as important.
“Hey yourself.” Two words, it was all I could string together at the moment. If nervous butterflies hadn’t erupted inside me I would have laughed. I was being ridiculous again.
Before I could pull myself together, he pulled me in his arms and stared down at me. His fingertips pressed against my lips. “I’ve been thinking about this nonstop. I’m glad I didn’t have to resort to kidnapping to get another date. Although that could have been fun in its own way too.”
“That doesn’t sound as much fun though.”
“Ahh. But you haven’t been taken by me. That could be a game changer.”
The laughter that threatened got clogged in my throat as my brain went an entirely different direction. Was he talking about kidnapping or sex? It was the experience I had missed out on during our first date wasn’t it? I’d expected it after Jeremy had left. Had wanted it more than anything.
Instead I’d been driven home in an orgasm induced haze and hadn’t fully realized until I’d gone to bed, that my mystery man, Alex, had managed to refrain. He’d given, but not taken, and he’d gone home without coming.
“About that,” I started, my breath coming a little quicker than I’d expected. “I didn’t mean to—I mean I could have—”
He pressed his fingers tighter against my lips and silenced my words.
“That night happened exactly how I wanted it to.” He leaned closer. “You were perfect.”
“But I don’t understand. Why would you go to all that trouble and then not,” I gulped, trying to force the words to come out.
“Fuck you?”
I nodded, hoping he didn’t notice that my head had just exploded. Or I guess more accurately how my body had freaked out. I suddenly felt like a live wire with excess and dangerous energy about to explode.
“And then where would we be? With nothing left to anticipate would you have agreed to come out with me tonight?”
I wanted to argue. Push him away. What kind of woman did he think I was that I wouldn’t even consider a second date after sex? So much for being a princess.
Although he might be right and that kind of annoyed me even more considering how arrogant he was.
“That doesn’t sound very nice.” I was starting to get my sense back along with my anger.
“Actually it is. I admire a woman who knows what she wants or at least isn’t afraid to grab what she wants without worrying about conventional expectations or commitments. You should be as free as you want to explore your sexuality. But don’t be so surprised when that bravery catches attention. It’s fucking hot.” He leaned forward and nipped my shoulder with his teeth. “Now I need to know more.”
I exhaled, releasing some of the tension I’d let rob the joy of this moment. He was right and sweet, and I expected very demanding of anyone that rotated through his atmosphere. Why would I expect to be anything different and why would I want to be. The point of connecting with someone this dominant was to explore the other side, right?
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” I nodded as he helped me into the car where I slid across the seat.
He followed me in, the door shutting behind him. I shivered despite the warmth of the luxurious car. I had no idea where we were going or what we were going to do. Although I had a hunch how it would end. At least I hoped so. He really was right. The anticipation of what would come without knowing for sure was like an addictive high.
He wasn’t the only one who wanted more.
“You can open your eyes now.”
I had tried to figure him out. Anticipate his next word or where he would touch me. I’d been wrong every time.
There were even long moments where he’d said nothing and in those I would have sworn he was secretly laughing as I squirmed in my seat. I couldn’t help it. With my eyes closed, my other senses took over and in the small confines of a car, everything felt like an overload.
The entire space smelled like Alex. From the sophisticated cologne he wore with a light touch to the more earthy undertones of his skin that I picked up every time he leaned close to whisper in my ear.
And the words. He was killing me. It was so easy to picture his every action from his dirty descriptions alone. I was literally on fire as the car slowed to a stop.
“You don’t want to open your eyes, kitten? I thought you would be dying to see by now.”
“I do see. Everything. How could I not when you’ve painted everything in vivid color the entire time.”
His chuckle filled the space around us as I struggled for some composure. Wherever he was taking me didn’t matter. What mattered were the places his hands and lips liked to touch. My neck, my mouth, my knees and yes, between my thighs.
I’d tempted fate by not wearing underwear tonight and he’d figured out my secret in under five minutes. I wasn’t usually that bold, but what could I say? Alex inspired me to be bad.
“You want me to fuck you.”
It was neither a question or a demand. We both knew it as the simple truth. I wanted him more than I could have imagined. I bit my lip to keep from pleading. It was the one thing he probably wanted and I wasn’t ready to give it to him yet.
“It’s not going to happen. At least not yet. So you might as well open your eyes.”
“I’d settle for a kiss,” I teased, my eyes remaining shut so I didn’t have to watch him say no.